the day you kiss me is when i sing
the funeral song: goodbye to my mother,
to the lake i almost sank in the summer before,
to the hands i crashed into my wall,
to the sinews and vessels i’ve known so long.
after this there is no end, because
it’s the end itself; a migration of memories,
until i lose my sight or my heart pulses
once too hard, until i veer off the shaking track.
this is me skinning existence until
it loses its meaning—i’ve learned
how to call myself real, and now that
you’ve seen me like a skeleton i
take back all of it. there’s dust
on my fingers like yours on my body,
and the night collapses in, and with it, me.
Annie Williams is a sixteen-year-old high school junior from Ohio. She likes to read when she’s not supposed to, and make Spotify playlists for every occasion.